Donald Trump had a problem. A problem called “democracy.” See, he LIKED being President, (well, not the work part, but definitely charging the Secret Service to pee) but those rat-bastard Founding Fathers built all these dumb ol’ “elections” into their dumb ol’ “Constitution,” and smack dab in the middle of an economy you personally wrecked and a pandemic you disastrously mismanaged is nobody’s idea of a great time for a performance review.
Devin “Pigfucker” Nunes was an early adopter of Donald Trump’s unique blend of authoritarianism and kakistocracy, and it’s not hard to understand why; it takes a whole lotta institutional white supremacy to keep men so maliciously mediocre in positions of power.
There is no greater proof that the Republican base has no goddamn sense than Mitch McConnell’s consistently dismal approval rating from voters of his own party; the man is absolute ghoul, yes, and certainly he projects little folksy warmth, but he puts Ws on the board. Big ones. More than anybody I’ve ever seen.
One of Trump’s earliest congressional taint remoras, Ron DeSantis rode a wave of I’m With Stupid first to the Florida GOP’s 2018 gubernatorial nomination, and then, because learning from mistakes is apparently for cucks, to a narrow general election victory.
To level with y’all up front, I think Tucker Carlson is the most dangerous man in America. He’s the mouth of American fascism, and Donald Trump’s unofficial Chief Disinformation Dispenser, and, ultimately, a manufacturer of brownshirts.
Take an unusually weak mind, surgically remove evolution’s hard-won capacity to tell fact from fiction, fill the empty spaces with hate, and you’ve got Marjorie Taylor Greene. Drop that mind in the middle of the I-know-we’re-not-supposed-to-dismiss-MAGA-whites-as-racist-hillbillies-but-COME-ON shithole known as the Georgia 14th, and you’ve got the dumbest, most malicious member of the United States Congress, and ascendant American fascism’s loudest, vilest mouth.
When Rudy Giuliani, having just chugged a bottle of methamphetamine-laced NyQuil, stumbled onstage to deliver his apocalyptic sermon of fear at the 2016 Republican Nation Convention, you knew something was deeply fucked in this country.
Mike Pence is the Patron Saint of Mediocre White Dudes, and the Roman God of Failing Upwards.
A Democrat in his youth, Pence, like many men of limited intelligence, turned to religious conservatism for the convenience of being able to end arguments by claiming God shares his every fear and prejudice, while forgiving his every shortcoming, how convenient.
Secretary of State
Mike Pompeo is one of those performatively pious fake Christians who loves using his loudly-claimed-but-seldom-followed faith like a cudgel while ignoring every single word of the actual Bible, including “and” and “the.”
Secretary of State
Over the course of three decades, Rex Tillerson fucked, bribed, and murdered his way to the top of Exxon Mobil, like some sort of jowlsy Eva Peron.
William Barr actually taught me a valuable lesson. See, I didn’t look too closely at Bill when he was nominated to be Attorney General. After Jeff “Too Racist for the 80’s” Sessions and the masculine toilet guy, honestly, he looked like a nice, refreshing, safe, traditional Republican. An institutionalist who could bring a little much-needed stability.
And then he turned out to be a fascist, and one of the most dangerous enemies of democracy in American history. Whoops. My bad.
Secretary of the Treasury
Steve Mnuchin, like his namesake, the Noise You Make When You’re Dry Heaving After Getting Food Poisoning From Eating Truck Stop Gas Station Roller Hot Pockets on a Road Trip, is deeply unpleasant, and may result in the involuntary voiding of foul-smelling bodily fluids.
Secretary of Defense
Chief of Staff
National Security Advisor
Holy shit, there are Generals all over the place these days, aren’t there?
Retired General James Mattis serves as Secretary of Defense. Retired General John Kelly ran Homeland Security for a bit, before becoming the Lead Executive Branch Babysitter, excuse me, Chief of Staff. H.R. McMaster’s the National Security Advisor, and hell, he’s still on active duty.
Jefferson Beauregard Sessions, third generation of his family to carry the name of a Confedarate piece of trash and also a second Confederate piece of trash, is living his dream. As Velveeta Goebbels’ Attorney General, he’s turning back the clock to a time when women and minorities knew their place, and mediocre white dudes like himself got to run everything, even if they weren’t especially bright.
Ryan Zinke is like if the crappiest robot in Westworld escaped and jumped into conservative politics. He’s such a cartoon cowboy, I bet his right boot says “Andy” on the bottom.
Secretary of Commerce
When a witch’s curse transformed his master into a Beast and his fellow servants into household objects, Wilbur Ross became a decorative garden gnome. Unlike the rest of his compatriots, he ventured out into the world to make his fortune in the realm of shady international finance and money laundering, and when True Love’s Kiss lifted the curse, Wilbur was too far away for the enchantment to reverse, and thus he remains trapped in gnome form forever.
Secretary of Health and Human Services
If the Hippocratic Oath is binding in any sort of spiritual sense, Tom Price is royally fucked, y’all. There is some straight Dante shit awaitin’ him in the afterlife.
Secretary of Housing and Urban Development
Dr. Ben Carson is only in politics because he was rude President Obama to his face. At the 2013 National Prayer Breakfast, a traditionally non-political event, Dr. Ben, having been invited as the keynote speaker, decided to use his time to shit on the President and his policies.
Secretary of Education
Betsy DeVos is what happens when bored white ladies have enough money to really fuck shit up. Turns out, if you’re born rich and marry richer, you don’t have to settle for a book club, you can buy yourself a whole cabinet department!
Administrator of the EPA
Scott Pruitt, like a lot of boys his age, grew up watching Captain Planet cartoons. Unlike most boys his age, he decided that the various sludge-smog-and-toxic-waste-slinging villains were the role models for him.
Ok, fine. Pruitt is ten years too old to have grown up on Captain Planet, but fuck you, that’s a good opening paragraph. Make your own fucking website, you don’t like it.
Chief of Staff
Nobody wants to be Reince Priebus when they grow up. He’s just so immediately recognizable as a weaselly little tapeworm of a man, y’know?
Reince Priebus is the sort of person who would be played by Brad Dourif in a film.
Steve Bannon played Bob Ewell in a high school production of To Kill a Mockingbird, and liked it so much he decided to stay in the character for the rest of his life.
A self-described Leninist, and an outspoken populist*, Bannon wants to kidney-punch the administrative state, give it a wedgie, and steal its lunch money.
Jared Kushner was born on third base and thinks he invented baseball.
Jared’s dad, Charles Kushner, went to jail for tax evasion, illegal campaign donations, and, ahem, “witness tampering,” by which I mean he set his brother-in-law up with a hooker (not, I’m sad to report, of the Pissing Russian variety) and recorded their genital-smushing in order to blackmail him.
Daddy’s Little Girl
Ivanka Trump is what happens when you cross Gwyneth Paltrow with Mussolini’s dumbest, laziest aide-de-camp. Watching her try to sell her father’s fascism as some sort of pro-woman lifestyle brand, marketed in the sickliest imaginable shade of pink, has been one of the most bizarre subplots of this nightmare we can’t seem to pinch ourselves out of.
So, while Melania Trump is perhaps not as shitty as many of the crooks, Nazis, and Nazi crooks who inhabit her dirtbag husband’s world, she manages to impressively shitty in her own right.
When you worked for Akin, things weren’t simple
Cuz he got caught on tape
With legitimate rape
Senior Advisor for Policy
Why is it always the shittiest imaginable white dudes who turn out to be white supremacists?
Stephen Miller, who started balding eleven seconds after his conception, has by all accounts been a sack of monkey shit pretty much every single minute of his life.
Director of Communications
Oh wow, this new Communications Director looks like a real character, huh?
Where to begin? Ok, Anthony Scaramucci first came to –
Wait, what? Really?
White Supremacist Multi-Tool
Kris Kobach is like the protagonist of the white supremacist version of one of those Disney movies where a kid learns to chase his dreams, no matter how big. The kid gets tired of the monotonous grind of burning crosses on just one lawn at a time, and dreams of burning a cross big enough for the whole dang country!
Maybe he has a talking/singing Confederate flag for a sidekick. Named “Bedford.”
Roving Freelance Fascist
As seen in the famed documentary RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, when the Ark of the Covenant was opened on an uncharted island north of Crete, the burning light that issued thereof reduced the Nazi soldiers present to piles of ash and molten flesh. In time, the rains washed the fascist bio-goo into the island’s sewage system, where it mixed with the shit and piss and used tampons and such, and in time it congealed, took the shape of a man (albeit an unattractive one), slapped on a pair of glasses, and Sebastian Gorka was formed.
Welcome to Your New Life, Kevin McCarthy. No Refunds.
We’ve seen some stupid, stupid shit together over the years, you and I, but this week…hoo boy. The Republican Party simply will not stop stabbing itself in the brain. God knows why. Just double fisting icepicks and gouging away.
After squandering the most favorable midterm political environment any of them are likely to see, Republicans were eager to turn the page, to move on from the perverts n’ weirdos, but that’s not how it works, campers; you’re a MAGA party now, and for every Doug Mastriano or Herschel Walker you shove back under the bed, there’re ten Chip Roys looking to claw their way into the spotlight. There will always be another pervert. There will always be another weirdo. This is the life you asked for. Have fun with it.
Yes, weaned on gameshowified politics and the reliably impotent harrumphing of feckless moderates, Kevin’s terrible toddler caucus busted out of the nursery and clamped a vise around his nuts, and who could’ve seen that coming except everybody? It’s like running a day care center where you feed the kids nothing but Pixy Stix and espresso, screen films from the Saw franchise all day, and then take ‘em to the symphony and expect ‘em to behave.
I’m drafting this after ballot #13, as Kevin parades around with his I Lost Slightly Less Humiliatingly This Time participation trophy, and if he does survive, I’m sure history will view this week’s drastic lowering of already low expectations as a savvy move on his part. This Congress is going to need to measure its successes in Mayonnaise Jars Opened, and even then, don’t get greedy.
Not sure how much of the store is left for ol’ Kev to give away at this point, but I have faith in his ability to find creative new ways to debase himself. Not the best vote-counter, perhaps, but a world-class capitulator. This season of Debt Ceiling Chicken is gonna be lit.
There’s supposed to be another vote later tonight, but if your plan involves Gaetz and Boebert voluntarily relinquishing their stranglehold on the C-SPAN feed…good luck. But who knows, maybe at some point in the near future, House Republicans will finally manage to drag their sad, saggy selves over the starting line, and I’m sure it’ll be two years of nonstop legislative mastery after that.
(Anyway, this is the rare story that’s fast-moving on a Friday night, which is when I post, so I apologize in advance for any stale takes. As always, you may return any unused portion of this blog for a full refund.)
Let me add, George Santos waddling around in the background, ducking reporters, voting McCarthy, getting his finger stuck in his ear every couple hours…it’s just an exquisite detail. My compliments, this is one lovingly crafted clusterfuck.
I also thought it was a nice touch when the boondoggle lasted long enough to barrel into America’s insurrectiversary, in case the lessons about meddling with forces you can’t hope to control were still too subtle for anybody. Which, spoilerz: yup.
Anyway, as much fun as it is watching Kevin McCarthy lose, one can endure just so many pointless floor votes before the thrill of waiting to see what Andy Ogles will do wears off. Luckily, this train wreck triggered many a MAGA meltdown, as the party of deranged idiots struggled to come to grips with the consequences of a being a party of deranged idiots.
Even Ben Shapiro was forced to acknowledge the “general perception that Republicans are incompetent and foolish.” Yeah, Ben, you lower the standards a little at a time, until one day you wake up to a headline about Ali Alexander calling Marjorie Taylor Greene a “harlot,” and you realize, “wow, I’m in a political coalition with both of these people,” and I imagine the journey to “wait, are we dumbasses?” is fairly short from there.
Suddenly all these people who do nothing but rile up the mob all day are confused and indignant that there’s a mob to deal with. It’s kind of adorable, actually, watching Sean Hannity, cast as the stodgy, finger-wagging institutionalist, berate Lauren Boebert until she runs away screaming “I learned it by watching you!!!” Those two can split a bag of dicks, by the way.
Oh man, we were just talking about the masturbatory delusion of the Mike Pence Can Totally Win a Republican Presidential Primary, They Barely Tried to Lynch Him At All thinkpiece, when along comes Peter King with an absolute classic of the genre.
Yup yup, Mike Pence is the future of the Republican Party, and I bet Pete’s endorsement is what turns this whole thing around. Can’t imagine we’ll be hearing about this silly “MAGA” business for very much longer, not with PETER KING on the case.
Hope you caught the fantastic-if-chilling profile in the Failing New York Times of Elise Stefanik, who regrets she has but one soul to sell in her quest for power for its own sake. Every fascist movement needs a few hollow climbers to help the psychos find the light switches and fill out the paperwork. A few amoral enablers. A few Elise Stefaniks, if you will.
Matt Schlapp always seemed like precisely the sort of fellow who would grope somebody’s crotch without consent, so absolutely zero surprising news broke on the Matt Schlapp front this week. Moving on.
Fun little details keep trickling out of the January 6th committee’s report…didja see where Off-Brand Orbán somehow found time, mid-coup, to attempt to trademark the phrase “rigged election?” He’s like a truffle pig, only what he roots out, unerringly, in any situation, is the cheapest possible swindle. It’s breathtaking, in a way.
I see Jair Bolsonaro fled to DeSantistan, because I guess we’re the sort of shithole country that defeated autocrats flee to now. You guys, what if we’re not a shining city upon a hill?
The anti-vax crowd glommed onto an NFL tragedy for one of their ritual shitfits; everybody spread a bunch of conspiracy theories and injected ivermectin into their genitals and stabbed their brains for a bit; you’re super jealous you weren’t invited, don’t deny it.
Armed with the media literacy of a third-grader, Joe Rogan casually unleashed a harassment mob on an innocent doctor, lots of super healthy dynamics at work there. To everybody out there who decided to terrorize a stranger because of something Joe Rogan said, a hearty congratulations on your choices, and your awesome, awesome life. We need mandatory classes in role model vetting in this country. Especially for dudes.
Which brings us to manosphere icon Andrew Tate, whose famous fleet of luxury cars got seized by Romanian authorities in their sex-trafficking investigation. The cars achieved global notoriety recently, when Tate boasted of their mighty emissions on the internet, to a 19-year-old girl, which is the sort of thing only the manliest men do.
What else, what ellllllllllse…oh, here’s a nifty headline: 2 Men Accidentally Set Themselves On Fire Trying to Burn Down an Immigration Center. That’s a solid little play-within-a-play for this week, innit? Reinforces several key themes.
“Is the right winning the comedy wars?” asks a piece attempting to make sense of snickering jackass Greg Gutfeld’s popularity. Read it if you hate yourself, I guess. What Gutfeld does isn’t comedy, for the record, he just sneers and giggles while spewing the same bile as everybody else on Fox. As for the comedy wars, well, “meet the House GOP’s newly crowned comedy king,” Tim Burchett:
“Another time, after visiting then-President Donald Trump at the White House with other members, Burchett was the last to run onto the bus — yelling they needed to peel out because he’d just stolen the baby Jesus from the Nativity scene (he had not actually done so).”
Yikes. I suppose if Paul Ryan is what passes for a policy wonk in your sorry assemblage, Tim’s about as much as you could hope for, class clown-wise. “Is the right winning the comedy wars?” Ooooooof. Even RT couldn’t spin that shit.
Hey, at the risk of getting sappy, I was kinda overwhelmed by the outpouring of support last week, when we unveiled the expanded tip jar page. Thank you. Y’all were very, very kind, and I’m very, very appreciative, because I was able to purchase a tremendous amount of beer. Beer that deserves my attention now. Stay safe out there, and somebody wake me up when there’s a Speaker.